


Crawling Back To You

by badlifechoices



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies), Mission: Impossible - Rogue Nation (2015)
Genre: Angst, Dark Ethan, Dysfunctional Relationships, Established Relationship, Ethan is not a Happy Bunny, M/M, Will Needs a Hug, spoiler for mi5 obviously
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-14 23:08:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4583661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badlifechoices/pseuds/badlifechoices
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Will calling Hunley wasn't part of the plan? What if he did it because he was worried not only about Ethan's safety but also his sanity? Six months on the run can break the strongest of agents and Ethan has had far too many things taken from him. Will can see he's coming apart at the seams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_I don't know if you feel the same as I do_   
_But we could be together if you wanted to_

* * *

 

“That’s what you think?”

Silence. No one dares to answer because that’s what they’re all thinking. They’re thinking that Ethan is taking this too far, that he’s too invested in the whole story to be making rational decisions. Since the moment they found Ethan and Benji in Morocco Will has seen it. He’s the analyst, it’s his job to know what people are thinking, to know what’s going on in their heads. And everything about Ethan screams at him that this is not going to end well. He’s too tense, his shoulders drawn up. He’s nervous, more so than ever, his usually so calm hands have a hard time being still now. And then there’s his eyes. He looks haunted, like a man who has been running for too long. If it was anyone but Ethan Will would’ve taken him down already because the part of his brain that is not suffering from exhaustion and sleep deprivation tells him that there’s only one way this is going to end.

Ethan is going insane.

He knows this story. He’s heard it too often. It’s always the best agents, the ones who single-handedly save the world twice a year. ‘The bright ones’ as the secretary likes to call them. They all break eventually. For some it’s grief that breaks them in the end, the kind of pain that slowly eats away at your insides. For some it’s hate and for other’s the need for revenge. That’s why IMF introduced mandatory visits to the therapist after every mission long ago. They lost too many good agents because the job tore them apart.

Will remembers his first partner at the IMF. They were close, close enough to find comfort in each other and each other’s arms after their missions. It always worked out until that time when it didn’t. He remembers dragging him away from the mass grave, the man screaming and struggling in his arms. Back in the states he managed to kill two other agents before they locked him away. There was nothing else they could do, they told him and Will had to watch horrified how the man clawed away at his own arms. In the end he didn’t even recognise Will anymore. What became of him, he doesn’t know. He never came back to visit him because he thought he saw his own future in the man.

And now Ethan had that same glint in his eyes. The same spark that showed that he’d lost a part of himself. The thought hurts and he doesn’t want to believe it. He tries to tell his mind to back off, that it would be true for a normal human, a normal agent but this is _Ethan._ Ethan has always been slightly insane; he’s always been reckless and has gotten too invested in things before. He loves danger more than anything else, the rush of adrenaline. It’s just that, Will tells himself, he’s just stressed out from spending half a year hiding and running away from The Syndicate and the CIA. He’s been alone too long.

Will tries his best to reach him. He corners him when they first get to London and it would be so easy to fall for the game Ethan is playing with him. Ethan’s kisses are tender, his touches delicate. As much as Will wants to lose himself in that sensation of being reunited with his lover, he can’t help but notice that something is off. The way the older man looks at him, when he thinks that Will doesn’t notice, considering, calculating. It’s like he’s trying to solve Will like a puzzle and it makes him uncomfortable in his own skin.

He shouldn’t have left Ethan alone, he thinks. If he came after him earlier he could’ve stopped this. He pushes the thought aside and focuses on what is going on instead.

 

Ethen doesn’t listen to them. Then they take Benji.

It’s the way Ethan still keeps his calm after they’ve lost their Techie that sends cold chills down Will’s spine. Ethan doesn’t even blink, just watches the unmarked car speed off. He doesn’t react when Will starts yelling at him. The older man only looks at him when he’s stopped and the blankness of his face makes him involuntarily take a step back. Ethan has held a gun to his head back in Dubai, he’s threatened him before. Will has watched him fight and kill but never before has he been afraid of him. Now he feels ice cold dread run through his veins.

They’re all awfully quiet on the way back to their hideout but Will can feel Ethan’s eyes on him. He doesn’t look up, he’s not sure how he’s supposed to react. His instincts tell him to flee, to get out of there as soon as possible because Ethan is dangerous. But at the same time he doesn’t think the other would hurt him. Or maybe that just what he wants to believe. When they get out of the car, Ethan tells Luther to go ahead. When Will attempts to follow him, their leader grabs his arm, holding him back. Will flinches, more out of instinct than because the other has actually hurt him. Ethan doesn’t let go, just pulls him closer until their bodies are pressed together.

“Don’t worry.” His voice is rough but the touch of his fingers is gentle when he brushes them over Will’s temple. “We’ll get him back. And then I’ll kill Lane.” He smiles and in every other situation his smile would be the only thing Will needs for reassurance. But it’s not quite right. Ethan’s smile is warm but his eyes are cold. He leans in to press a kiss to Will’s lips and when he pulls back he whispers: “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you, Will.”

The analyst nods numbly. He’s tired of arguing with Ethan, he’s tired of this whole thing but at the same time he can’t help the uneasy feeling growing in his chest. He leans forward to kiss his lover again, trying his best to lose himself in the sensation like he used to but he can’t turn off the thoughts racing in his head.

The older man pulls back and Will forces a little smile onto his lips. “Come on, we have a lot to do.”

If Will was determined to stop worrying so much, he feels himself losing all hope when he listens to Ethan’s plan. Even Luther looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here. The two have been friends way longer than Ethan even knows Will – oh Will has seen him before at IMF but the famous agent Hunt never so much as glanced at the chief analyst when he was in DC, probably because he had better things to do - and Will is convinced that is the only reason why Luther even puts up with his plan.

“You can’t just walk in there and snatch the Prime Minister, Ethan! They’re gonna catch you and even if you shoot the guards and threaten the Minister there’s no way you’re getting out again without killing even more people.” And maybe he’s less angry than he is desperate. This doesn’t only sound like Ethan is planning a massacre, not to mention that he wants to threaten the Prime Minister’s wife, but it sounds like a suicide mission too. Will knows Ethan’s plans, knows that they’re usually brilliant and with a bit – or a lot – of luck usually work out but this time he’s going too far. And there he’s usually the one who tries to avoid casualties, who saves lives wherever he can and who hates having to take out someone who might be innocent. But the other doesn’t listen to him when he voices his concerns. Ethan only gives him that grim smile of his that always appears on his face when he’s already made up his mind.

 _You just want to kill Lane, don’t you? You don’t care how many people die you want to kill him so bad._ He doesn’t say it out loud because he’s afraid of Ethan’s reaction. He wonders if it has something to do with Julia and everyone else the other agent has lost. Maybe it’s just too much and Lane, Lane stands for everything Ethan despises. Lane has threatened Ethan’s family, has forced him to abandon his job and leave Will behind and Ethan is out for revenge.

The analyst grabs his bag and leaves, only throwing a quick ‘I have to prepare after all we’re kidnapping the Prime Minister tonight’ over his shoulder before he steps out of the room. Once the door falls shut behind him, he takes a deep breath. Ethan is going to get himself killed or hurt and a whole lot of people with him. And Will is supposed to just let it happen. If one were to ask him if he trusted his team leader – _lover_ – with his life, he’d answer without hesitating. Of course he does. He trusts Ethan and if it was Will’s line that he was putting in danger he would not think twice about doing it.

The images of his nightmares still haunt him. The morgue. Ethan on that cold steel table, his eyes open and empty, staring at the ceiling. No. He can’t let that happen. He can’t just stand by and wait for Ethan to return to him in a body bag! For the sake of his beloved, he has to do something!

He pulls his phone out of his pocket without even thinking about it but his finger hesitates over the screen. What is he doing? Is he really considering _betraying_ Ethan like this? Only days ago the thought would’ve never crossed his mind and now he’s willing to throw everything away he has? Ethan would never forgive him for this. There is even a chance that the he’ll never be able to see the other again. All the happiness they’ve shared, the stolen kisses on missions, the days and nights spent together, is he truly ready to give up all that just because he feels bad about this mission?

Will closes his eyes and counts to ten. Then he heads down the corridor and leaves the building. He can’t risk anyone listening in on his call. Then he starts typing in the number.

“Hunley, Director of the CIA.”

The analyst swallows thickly, thinking for a split second that it’s still not too late to just hang up, get rid of the burn phone and go back inside. “This is agent Brandt. I have information on the whereabouts and plans of Ethan Hunt.”

For a moment everything is quiet and all Will can hear is his own heartbeat. Then: “Brandt. I didn’t think you’d call me. Where are you?”

“London, sir. Ethan – Hunt, he’s planning to kidnap the Prime Minister tonight at the auction. He needs the Minister’s fingerprints, retinal scan and voice recording to open a computer file he stole from a databank in Morocco.”

He can hear Hunley shift, probably already giving orders to trace the call and check if there really is an auction. He sounds sceptical when he speaks up again. “And what reason do I have to trust you, agent Brandt. As far as I’m concerned you’re a fugitive just like Hunt. You don’t seem like the type who’d just betray his _partner._ ”

“I’m not, sir. I’d never betray him.” Only that he’s doing just that right now. “I’m concerned about Hunt, he… appears stressed, on edge.” As an analyst he knows well enough how to read people who are close to a breakdown and Ethan’s a poster child for the symptoms. “I’m concerned about him. I- I’m afraid he’s risking his own life and that of too many others. I can’t allow this to happen.”

“You two are close.” Hunley states though there is a question in his voice because he wants to know just _how close._

Will clenches his fist. “We’re – we _were_ in a relationship. Before he disappeared in London.” Even though they never really called it a relationship and it feels so wrong to tell this man what he hasn’t even told Ethan: “I love him. I couldn’t bear to see him hurt. If you can guarantee that you won’t harm him, I’ll tell you how you can get him.” And he surely sounds desperate now but he doesn’t even care, it’s not like he’s planning to return to his job after all this is over. “Please, sir. Promise he won’t get hurt.”


	2. Chapter 2

“He needs you.” Will looks up, surprised to find that the person who’s addressed him is actually Luther.

A frown on his face, he furrows his brows questioningly. “Excuse me?”

“I know you’re worried but he needs you right now.” And that is something he didn’t expect to hear from the retired agent, not after the whole ‘if I find out you’re up to something I won’t hesitate to kill you with my bare hands if I have to’.

“I thought you didn’t trust me.”

The older man nods grimly – on a different note, Will has never actually seen the guy smile, maybe he just doesn’t do it. “I don’t. But I know Ethan and I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” He seems to hesitate for a little moment before he continues to speak. “I haven’t seen that look since Croatia.” The way he glances down at Will makes it obvious that he is one of the very few people who actually really know what happened in Croatia. Of course he does. Luther and Ethan are close. They’ve known each other for years and in any other situation he’d probably be just a tiny bit jealous but right now he’s too busy worrying. “I’m saying don’t fuck this up.”

Will tries to come up with a comeback but his brain seems to resemble a sponge someone squeezed all the water out. All he can do is shrug and mutter a ‘sure thing’ under his breath. Not because he’s intimidated by the other male, it takes a lot more than that to scare an analyst slash field agent like him, but because he already has fucked this up. He’s fucked up proper and the only thing that makes this maybe a tiny bit less fucked is that he still thinks it’s the right thing.

He glances at Ethan, who’s still sitting at the table, hunched over his notes and the man looks like he’s about to fall asleep where he sits. His eyes are rimmed with red and the artificial light over his head paints the shadows in his face even darker. Will has tried to get him to sleep at least a few hours but his lover had adamantly refused, claiming that he was not the least bit tired and that he had to focus on the mission. He’s given him that crooked smile again, the one that doesn’t reassure Will the slightest bit but that kind of still turns his knees to jelly after all this time and made him bite his tongue before he spilled everything. If there’s one thing he hates more than seeing Ethan like this, it’s keeping secrets from him. He’s good at keeping secrets, they both are and it’s part of their job. But at least they made an effort to be honest with each other.

Forcing himself to focus on something else, the analyst picks up his gun and disassembles it. The familiar movements calm him and without daring to look at either Ethan or Luther again, he starts cleaning the weapon for the fourth time this evening. But it only keeps him occupied for so long before he’s back to staring at Ethan’s back, trying his best to resist the urge to get up and pace. It’s a nervous habit of his and he knows it drives everyone insane. He tries not to wonder what will happen when the CIA shows up, tries not to imagine the look on his lover’s face when he realises that _someone_ ratted him out.

But he’s an analyst, imagining possible scenarios is part of his job and his mind instinctively wanders to what exactly can go wrong tonight. It’s only when Ethan gets up from his chair that he finds himself distracted from his thoughts. The older man looks determined, brows furrowed and a hard line around his mouth.

“It’s time.” Is all he says and dread starts pooling in Will’s stomach. This is it. He nods, averts his eyes when Ethan looks at him because he doesn’t dare to look at him directly. He’s afraid the other will read his face like an open book. Without as much as glancing at any of the two agents, he disappears into the neighbouring room to change into his suit. The fine suit he only ever wears for missions that take a turn for the worst. He wanted to throw it away after Dubai because any outfit that had him jumping down a freaking ventilator shaft and almost dying must be bad luck but Ethan said he looked good in it so he kept it. _Talking about bad omens._

He’s buttoning his shirt when he feels a set of arms wrap around his waist, pulling him back against a warm body. Guilt makes him stiffen and only reluctantly lean back against Ethan’s chest. Maybe he should savour this, he thinks, because it might be the last time he gets to feel this. He closes his eyes and ignores the cold shiver running down his spine. Ethan’s lip are hot on his neck, tracing the edge of the car he carried away from their last mission together.

“How’s your German?”

The question takes him by surprise but he doesn’t dare to move, doesn’t open his eyes. “Ganz annehmbar, denke ich.” He mumbled, forcing his fingers to relax their grip on his shirt before he crumples it. “I spent half a year in Berlin on my first mission in the field. Why?”

He feels Ethan smile against his skin as he presses a gentle kiss to his shoulder. “When this is over-“ _When Lane is dead,_ is the part that remains unspoken. “I know a nice place in Bavaria where we can lay low for a while.”

Will swallows thickly and nods. “Sounds great.” He manages around the lump in his throat and oh god he’s pretty sure not even Croatia has made him feel this sick to the stomach. He just wishes Ethan would leave, get back to the preparations for his suicide mission or whatever because he doesn’t think he can stand this much longer.

“You were looking for me, after I left London?” The question sounds harmless enough.

He tries his best to sound his usual self, as he raises an eyebrow and scoffs: “The whole CIA was looking for you, Ethan. With Hunley breathing down my neck I could hardly not do it.”

Ethan hums. “But you kept an eye on me. Outside your working for the CIA.”

It’s true, Will tried his best to track the other’s movements, first across Europe, then to Mexico, South Africa and then back to Europe. “Yeah. You didn’t exactly make it easy though.” The only advantage Will had was that he knows – _knew –_ how Ethan worked. He’s spent enough time with the man to know what he was thinking, at least until now.

“I missed you.” And really, how can his voice be so soft when the next thing on his mind is to abduct the Prime Minister of England and possibly kill everyone who gets in his way?

Will forces a smile on his lips though it probably turns out a lot less honest than he wants it to be. “I missed you too. Now get out of here before or the Prime Minister will already be in his bed sleeping soundly by the time we get there.” He prays that the light tone of his words doesn’t sound forced and a wave of relief washes through him when Ethan just chuckles. Those sinful lips press another kiss to that spot right behind his ear and then the arms fall away from his waist and the warmth in his back disappears. The cold hits him unexpectedly and makes him shiver. When he can hear the other’s steps in the other room, he exhales the breath he doesn’t remember holding and shakily closes the last of the buttons.

He tucks the gun into the waistband of his trousers and the familiar weight grounds him a bit as he throws the jacket over his shoulder. Of course he won’t get in through the front door like this but that’s not exactly the plan anyway. Quickly checking his phone, he steps back into the other room and joins the rest of his team.

For the first time he’s actually glad that Ethan and Luther take the Jag and he’s stuck with the unmarked grey Sedan. Ethan checks twice if the commlink is working. He calls him Brandt, as if Luther doesn’t already know what’s going on between them. Will answers in the same, more distant tone even though he’s definitely less focus on the mission than the other. He parks the car two streets away from the gallery and waits until Ethan and Luther inform him that they’re in before he gets out and starts walking. But he doesn’t follow the plan, doesn’t sneak in through the personnel entrance. He has another appointment tonight.

The vibrating phone in his pocket almost makes him wince and he quickly turns off the comm before he takes the call. Interference, he will say if Ethan asks but he suspects the other is too preoccupied with his operative to even notice.

“Brandt.” The director of the CIA greets him with a voice as void of emotion as a black hole. “Where are you?”

Will circles around the building and he can spot the fancy black cars with the dark windows already. “Almost at your position, sir. Hunt is inside the building.”

He only stops when he sees the Prime Minister and the director of the MI6 with Hunley. Taking a deep breath he hangs up and joins them.

“Mister Prime Minister, this is William Brandt, one of my top agents. He believes you and your wife are in danger.” And if he wasn’t neck deep in the whole thing already he’d think about just how much he wants to punch the guy in the face for calling him ‘one of his top agents’. Because betraying his own team suddenly makes him a valuable asset to the CIA. But this is how the agency is run apparently. It explains a lot, really. He squares his shoulder and nods. Now that he has started this he has to go through with it. The situation is hanging over his head like the proverbial Damocles sword anyway; he’s just sticking his neck out to make it easier for the executioner.

The director of the MI6 glares at him with just as much distrust as Will feels towards him – especially after Ethan so brilliantly concluded that this guy was the one who wiped the memory stick before Faust could get it to Lane. The Prime Minister on the contrary looks only mildly interested, like he’s too used to death threats to take it seriously. _What a foolish man if there’s one person he should take seriously, it’s Ethan._

Schooling his face into a mask of indifference, Will turns towards Hunley again and begins to explain Ethan’s plan as far as he knows it. Only when Hunley nods in approval, another sight that makes Will feel sick that pleased smile on the man’s face, he retreats a few steps to turn on the comm again.

“Brandt, Brandt come in. Brandt!”

„Yeah?“

„Where the fuck are you?“ Ethan hisses and he sounds a lot tenser than Will expected from this man who usually so easily keeps his calm in every situation.

“Almost in position.”

Hunley waves at him, motioning for him to join the group once again. He nods curtly and quietly sends a prayer to whoever it is who looks out for backstabbing double-agents, before he shuts off the comm again.

“Sir?”

Hunley musters him for a moment, before he turns towards the director of the MI6. “My men are in position. Brandt will stay with the Prime Minister.” And _protect him with his life if he must._ He knows this kind of order. And wouldn’t it be just too convenient if he died while they took down Ethan? One ex-IMF agent less to worry about.

This is it.

He’s made his decision and now he has to deal with the consequences.

Maybe it really would be convenient if Ethan shot him because then he wouldn’t have to see the look of disappointment, anger, betrayal on his face.

Will swallows the thought down, unable to ignore the bitter taste it leaves on his tongue.

“Yes, sir.”


End file.
